Diapered In The Dark

This story is simple. Two friends peeing together, one of them discovering the joys of peeing into a diaper.

If peeing offends you, or lesbianism isn't your cup of tea, please back away and check out one of my other stories!

This is my one hundred and first story on Literotica!

I know my published number is a bit higher, but four of those are essays and one is a poem.

To celebrate this milestone I have returned to my roots: peeing.

I first started writing with the goal of sharing my love of peeing in story form, and while the first story I published here wasn't a peeing story, the first one I wrote was. I held off publishing it first because I was nervous about how my writing would be received.

I needn't have worried, because I soon found a little community within Literotica that enjoys the same twisted and depraved kinks that I do!

I love most forms of erotic peeing, and have written about almost all of them over the past five years. But in my heart the parts of peeing that I love to share the most are desperation, and the sharing two people can do as the pressure builds and explodes.

This isn't my kinkiest story, but it's a simple premise that I love. Two women, full bladders, diapers, and a desire to share and explore!

IsabellaEmily

~~

"If you really have to go you can pee here," she whispered.

I felt my eyes open wide in the pitch-black room.

"Right here?" I whispered. "Are you serious? What do you want me to do? Pee out the window?"

"Not out the window," she giggled. "Here in the room. When they have their friends over, I usually lock myself in up here all night. I've peed in here before."

"You pee in your bedroom?" I asked.

"Not every night or anything," she said. "But when I need to it's easier than going downstairs and dealing with the noise and nonsense."

I was with my friend Becky in her third-floor bedroom. She lived with her brother and sister in the house they had all been raised in. Her parents had moved across the state for her father's job, but they'd allowed Becky and her older siblings to live there while attending college.

Unlike her sister and brother, Becky was a bit more shy and socially selective, so she rarely participated in the regular parties that were thrown at the house.

The parties were often pretty tame by college standards, just a bunch of kids hanging out drinking, eating, listening to music, watching movies, and anxious to impress the opposite sex. The crowd could get pretty big, but it was rarely noisy or rude, and nothing had ever been damaged as far as I knew.

Most of the neighbors didn't even realize when they'd had a party. I think most of the kids who frequented the house knew they had a great place to hang out away from the prying eyes of parents, so they were careful not to let anything happen that might change that.

Becky got along with her siblings and their friends but preferred to be in her own room listening to music or watching movies on her laptop, or reading. She had a room at the far end of the house, accessible by a set of stairs in the back of a hall closet.

I'd always thought her room felt like it had a secret entrance, and it was easy to feel hidden away inside it. I loved sleeping over.

We were freshmen in college and had been friends for two years. I moved here during my junior year of high school and didn't immediately fit in. It was a small school, and most of the kids assumed I was weird because I was quiet and kept to myself.

Becky had shared a library table with me during study hall, and we'd bonded over our love of horror movies. By the time college started we were nearly inseparable. She wasn't completely out of the closet about her bisexuality, but enough people knew that I think many assumed I was dating her.

I was romantically interested in both boys and girls, but being raised by a single and conservative dad I was pretty unsure about the whole sex thing, so I didn't mind people assuming I was spoken for if that meant I didn't have to figure the social scene out in a rush. And Becky didn't mind that assumption about us either.

Nor did she mind my lack of experience or sexual confidence.

"Friends can be anything to each other, or with each other," she told me more than once.

We usually hung out at her house because her parents were gone, and her brother and sister didn't mind me being around. I don't think they were entirely sure whether Becky and I were hooking up, but they didn't seem to care either way.

My father liked Becky, and he worked all the time and didn't care where I was or what I did as long as I didn't get arrested or flunk out of college. But my two younger sisters were always around, and they'd have told my father pretty quick if they realized that I had a bisexual friend.

On this particular night we'd hung out downstairs for a while enjoying the pizza and music, but before long we both got tired of the crowd and noise and slipped upstairs.

Becky had latched the door at the back of the hall closet when we came up. Her brother and sister both knew how to open it but anyone who randomly happened upon it by accidently opening the closet door wouldn't be able to.

She also locked the door at the top of the stairs. Her brother and sister would leave us alone, but with several people in the house she took the extra step to ensure our privacy.

We'd brought some wine coolers and cookies with us, and stretched out on her bed after getting into our pajamas, watching a masked slasher stalk babysitters while we ate and drank.

By the time the movie ended we turned off the lights and crawled under her covers to talk. She had an inflatable mattress I could use, but I usually just slept in her bed with her. We didn't mind sharing the bed, and even though we'd never done anything more than hold hands, we liked being close together.

I cherished our late-night conversations in the dark, while we huddled in her bed. The sounds from downstairs were muffled and distant, and almost comforting in the reminder that there were lots of people nearby even as Becky and I were alone.

We talked about school and the upcoming Christmas break, wondering if we'd be able to afford the overnight out of town trip we were hoping for to shop and catch a concert over the vacation.

We talked about a writing assignment we were working on together, about a real life unsolved disappearance of a girl a few hours from where we lived.

We began talking about sex and she teased me about my lack of experience.

"What you need is to find someone who will let you make them cum," she told me. "Something quick with no strings attached."

"Sounds like a great deal for them," I laughed. "A no commitment orgasm from someone who doesn't know what they're doing."

"Most people would enjoy the lack of commitment," she assured me. "Just two people sharing some fun for a while. And most guys would love to teach you how to give them a handjob or blowjob. As long as they knew going in that they weren't going to get to fuck you."

"Excuse me Mr. Stranger," I said sarcastically in the dark. "Can I please have a half an hour of your time to learn how to give you a blowjob?"

"You think you're being funny," she said, "but most guys would kill to have a cute girl like you walk up to them in a coffee shop and offer that."

"I'd be too embarrassed," I said, squirming.

When we'd turned the lights off I realized that I should have peed before coming upstairs, but I decided that I'd fall asleep soon and just wait until the morning. But now it was over an hour later and I was definitely feeling the need to go.

"So don't start with a guy," she said softly. "Start with a girl. You know how to do that, so you wouldn't be doing something totally new."

"I'd get hot coffee thrown in my face," I laughed.

"You'd have to approach it a bit more carefully," she agreed. "But I'll bet we could find you a nice woman willing to let you learn. Someone willing to tell you what to do, or willing to just be quiet while you explored if that was your preference."

I grinned in the dark, wondering if Becky was thinking of herself. We'd decided a long time ago that anything romantic between us would be too weird for our friendship, but platonically we'd grown awfully close since that conversation.

We'd gotten used to sleeping in the same bed, and we'd seen each other naked almost constantly in changing rooms and the gym locker room. We'd been naked together earlier when we'd changed into our pajamas.

We snuggled together when it was cold, and constantly held hands while watching horror movies. More than once, I wondered where exactly the line between staying friends and sexual exploration was at.

"Another advantage of a woman," she continued softly, "would be that she'd know how to make you cum."

"I know how to do that," I giggled.

"By yourself," she reminded me. "I love masturbation as much as the next horny gal, but you've got to believe me when I tell you that orgasms caused by someone else while you just sit back with your eyes closed and let them happen are on a whole different level."

I moved my thighs to try to alleviate the pressure in my bladder, but as I did that I felt a warmth move through me.

Even though I was constantly horny my own orgasms were usually hard to come by, after a long time of rubbing and touching. Often when I felt the urge to masturbate, I ended up giving up, frustrated and in worse shape than when I'd started.

But here in the dark my body was responding to our conversation, and the thought of someone else touching me between my legs was making my belly tingle, and I felt the urge to push my fingers down into my panties.

"I'd wondered about that," I admitted. "Trying a woman. I definitely want to try things with a guy at some point, but women are definitely more fun to fantasize about."

"All soft and warm and close," she whispered. "Hard dicks are fun to play with, but women are better if you ask me."

"Maybe someday I'll find out," I said. "In the meantime, I have to go downstairs."

"How come?" she asked.

"I have to pee," I told her. "I've been trying to hold off until morning, but I won't be able to."

"Do you have to go bad?" she asked softly, reaching over to tickle my side.

"Stop that," I giggled. "It's not quite an emergency, but I do have to go pretty bad."

"Gonna be a long line for the downstairs bathrooms," Becky said. "There are probably twenty-five girls down there."

"What about the one in your sisters' room?" I asked. Becky's sister had taken over their parent's master bedroom with its own bathroom.

"She'll be in there with her boyfriend by now," said Becky. "You'll wet your pants standing in the hallway waiting for them to stop fucking."

"I'll go downstairs then," I said, sitting up in the dark. "I'll get dressed and take my chances on the first floor."

"If you really have to go you can pee here," she whispered.

I felt my eyes open wide in the pitch-black room.

"Right here?" I whispered. "Are you serious? What do you want me to do? Pee out the window?"

"Not out the window," she giggled. "Here in the room. When they have their friends over, I usually lock myself in up here all night. I've peed in here before."

"You pee in your bedroom?" I asked.

"Not every night or anything," she said. "But when I need to it's easier than going downstairs and dealing with the noise and nonsense."

"Where do you do it?" I asked.

I wasn't sure if she was joking or not, but I couldn't help but ask.

"You have two choices," she said, matter-of-factly. "You can use the wastebasket. I did that a few times. It's plastic and won't leak, and it's big enough that there's no way you'll overflow it, no matter how much you have to go."

"You pee in your trash?" I asked her in a whisper.

"I take the trash bag out first," she said. "But there's never anything in it but paper anyway. The biggest downside is I have to carry it downstairs to the bathroom to empty, and then I have to scrub it, or it'll stink."

"Sounds like a pain," I said.

I decided that I definitely did not want to carry a plastic wastebasket of my own piss downstairs in the morning. Nor did I want to risk explaining to anyone who might be awake down there in the morning why I was scrubbing Becky's plastic trash can.

"It beats a full bladder," Becky teased, reaching over to poke my belly with her fingers.

"Stop!" I laughed. "You keep doing that and I'll wet your fucking bed."

"That's your other option," she said.

"What is?" I asked. "Wetting your bed?"

"Kind of," she said. "I have some diapers."

"Diapers?" I asked incredulously.

"Yeah," she said. "You can wear one and pee in it. It will absorb it all and when you're done you just put it in a plastic bag and take it with you when you leave. It's small enough that you can throw it away anywhere and no one will ever know what it is."

"You pee in diapers?" I asked.

I realized that instead of being repulsed I was strangely curious about the idea.

"When I have to go and they're having a party," she said. "It's easy and quiet, and afterwards I seal it up in a plastic bag. No one ever suspects."

"But you'd have piss all over yourself," I said.

"I have wipes to clean myself with," she said. "Just put them in the plastic bag with the diaper. Dry yourself with a paper towel and get dressed again."

"Are you serious?" I asked in the dark. I put my feet on the floor and clenched myself, trying to make the pressure ease up just a bit.

"I am," she said. "If you want to try it it's super easy, and no one will ever know. If you won't tell anyone I won't."

"I really have to go," I said, wondering why I was so curious about trying something so weird. "I'm not sure I want to wait in line downstairs. Hell, I'm not sure I can wait in line downstairs."

"Then you're going to have to do it up here," she said softly. "Waste basket or diaper?"

"Which is easier to clean up?" I asked, even though she'd just explained it.

"The diaper takes an extra two minutes tonight," she said. "But no time in the morning. The waste basket is faster tonight but will take five extra minutes in the morning."

"So the diaper is easier?" I asked her, surprised that I sort of wanted to try it.

"It is," she assured me.

"Are you serious about this?" I asked her. "You wouldn't fuck with me about something like this would you?"

The light came on next to the bed and she got up and went to her closet. She pulled a big yellow plastic storage container down from the shelf and brought it over and set it on the floor next to me. She took the lid off and gestured at the contents.

Inside was a stack of pink diapers, sanitary wipes, paper towels, and some large resealable freezer bags.

"Does it feel weird?" I asked, staring at her supplies.

"It feels different," she said. "Especially since it's not something you're used to. But in a way it's nice to be able to just stretch out on the bed in the dark and let go. When it happens it's really warm and sort of comforting. In a weird way."

I looked up at her and she had a funny look on her face, and I realized she was sexually excited.

"You do it on the bed?" I asked in a whisper.

"I've got to be somewhere when I do it," she answered. "Might as well be comfortable right?"

"Yeah," I said. "I guess."

I looked down into the box again and wondered just how often she did this. It didn't look like she was prepared to use a diaper a few times a year. From the looks of the amount she packed into the box it seemed like she could use one a night for the next several months.

"What if it leaks?" I asked. "Aren't you afraid you'll overflow?"

"These are super absorbent," she said. "And if I'm feeling especially full I have these pads to put under me. They'd catch any drips if there were any. But I've never had any leaks."

I realized with a shock that my heart was pounding. Becky wasn't the only one sexually aroused by the idea of peeing into a diaper.

"So I guess I'll try it," I said, suddenly eager to do this, and at the same time embarrassed by my eagerness and hoping that she wouldn't catch on. "Unless you think it will be too weird."

"Emily," she said with great sincerity. "Weird is sometimes really fucking good."

"I really hope so," I said, unsure why I said it like that.

I sat there, still looking down into the box, trying to wrap my head around what I was about to try. Part of me was suddenly eager to do this strange thing, and part of me was completely freaked out by the idea.

"Are you nervous?" Becky asked me quietly.

"I think so," I said. "I probably shouldn't be. It's just something that has to be done. But still...it seems...it seems...different."

"It is," Becky said. "But it's a fun way to solve a real problem. Plus, it'll be something you've never done before. At least as an adult."

"You're right about that," I conceded. "Are you sure you do this?"

"Yes," she said softly. "I'll even do it with you if you want."

"Are you...are you sure?" I asked.

"Yes," she said, grinning. "I am."

She pulled me to my feet before moving over to her dresser.

"Get undressed," she said over her shoulder. "At least your bottoms."

I hesitated as I watched her double check the lock on her bedroom door, and then I saw her use her lighter to light a candle. She went to her side of the bed and turned the light off, and the soft glow of the candle made the room seem cozy.

She pulled her top off and pushed her pajamas down over her hips as she came around the bed, and I undressed quickly to catch up to her. By the time she got to me I was wearing only my bra.

She pulled a diaper out and handed it to me, and as I unfolded it she took another one and put it on herself, showing me how to secure it.

"Like this," she said, hooking it at my hips. "Is it too tight?"

"No," I said, lifting one of my legs and feeling better as it stayed secure around my thigh.

"Where do you want to go?" she asked me.

"I don't know," I said.

I was suddenly realizing that along with the freedom to pee anywhere, came the task of deciding where that would be. On top of that realization I was nervous to be doing something that most people would consider disgusting.

I loved Becky dearly and trusted her completely, but I was about to be doing this profoundly strange thing with her in the room.

"I suggest the bed," she said softly. "That way you can relax. If you're nervous it might take a minute or so to make yourself go."

"Okay," I said. "That makes sense. Is that what you're going to do?"

"Probably," she said. "Unless you want me to do something different?"

"Different?" I asked, unsure what she meant.

"I just meant if you wanted privacy or something," she said. "I could be on the air mattress, and you could be up on the bed where I couldn't see you if you want. I lit the candle so we could see afterwards, not so I could watch. But I don't mind being together if you want that."

"Oh, okay," I said.

I wasn't sure what I wanted, but somehow the idea of being next to her was comforting. My heart was pounding, and my palms were sweaty, and my inner thighs were wet from arousal. Something was definitely happening with me.

"The bed is big enough," she said, pulling the covers down. "We'll be together."

She took two big square's of cloth out of the box and put one on each side of the bed.

"Just in case," she said. "But don't worry. I've never had a leak."

She took my hand like we were doing the most natural thing in the world and pulled me into bed with her, and we resettled where we'd been just a little while earlier. Back before I'd mentioned having to pee and she'd told me about her diapers.

We were both on our backs, staring at the patterns on the ceiling cast by the flickering candle, listening to the far away sounds of the downstairs party.